


What's your (Buzzer) Number

by Geromy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, UberEats AU, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 07:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21316309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geromy/pseuds/Geromy
Summary: lance? depressed. hunk? the best friend he could ask for. keith? this fucking guy again
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75





	What's your (Buzzer) Number

**Author's Note:**

> art and beta by dirkharley (thanks bae) enjoy you klance motherfuckers 
> 
> based on my own experience of being depressed and ordering food from two blocks away

It was a deafening silence, really. Interrupted here or there by Hunk adjusting in his seat or yawning, snickering at something on Lance’s laptop as he worked on it. Lance’s eyes were dry and burning from being open so long, too lethargic to even bring himself to blink. 

He was spread out along his couch, flat on his stomach as one arm hung down toward the floor. Every once in awhile he’d stroke his knuckles across the coarse carpet, reminding himself he could still feel something besides this wild, empty hole that had made its home in his chest.

What he wouldn’t give to hear her laugh, push his hair out of his eyes, thumb across the stubble he’d let build up on his face, tell him how silly he was being. 

Just as a new round of tears started to prick at his eyes, he found a distraction in the growling of his stomach, stirring up a different kind of agony inside him. He turned his head as if he could look away from it, sniffing back mucus, drying his cheeks on the couch cushion, and drinking in the darkness. 

“You hungry buddy?” Hunk asked. Lance listened to the slight clatter of him closing the laptop and setting it aside, leaning forward in his seat, slapping his hands together like an awkward dad not sure how to have The Talk. “I can whip something up for dinner.” 

Lance pulled his head out from the sand, managing to roll himself over onto his side, head lulling down over his shoulder and stretching his neck uncomfortably. 

“Good luck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse from disuse. “God knows when I last got groceries.”

“Well, it’s worth a try,” Hunk said, slapping his knees before standing, groaning a bit as he leaned to crack his back. “I can cook something out of anything.” He offered a thumbs up, which, for a very brief second, made Lance smile.

He couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with Hunk, conveniently looking away from him the entire afternoon. Guilt was swirling in his stomach, feeding every other bad feeling he was currently wallowing in. Allura breaking up with him, taking up all of Hunk’s time to do nothing but periodically cry and sit in silence. 

He felt  _ useless. _ Like a complete waste. A burden on everyone. 

Another tear rolled off his temple, and he closed his eyes in defeat. 

It didn’t take long for Hunk to come back out of the kitchen, a discouraged look on his face, one strong hand pushing his hair back. 

“I can cook something out of anything, but you literally have… Nothing.” 

Lance couldn’t even acknowledge it. Just another way he failed, let everyone down. He must have looked pathetic, judging by the pitying expression Hunk shot him before turning back into the kitchen, opening the fridge, and coming back with a single cheese stick in his hand. 

“Come on, time to sit up,” Hunk announced, offering his empty hand. Lance just stared at it for a few seconds, trying to find the will to take it. Which he did, though his touch was gentle and weak, forcing Hunk to make up for it and take it firmly, hoisting Lance up into a sitting position and taking a seat next to him. 

“I can feel my blood flowing,” Lance muttered, trying so, so hard to stay up, even as falling back on the other side of the couch felt so very enticing.

“Good start,” Hunk said, slapping a strong hand on Lance’s shoulder in encouragement before handing the cheese over. “Eat this, I’ll order some actual food.” 

He pulled the laptop over from the coffee table, opening it up and getting it settled in his lap. 

Lance peeked over his shoulder as he forced himself to down the snack, his stomach practically leaping at finally having food in it. And if he was honest… It did make him feel a little better.

“What are you in the mood for?” Hunk asked, scrolling down UberEats and reading a restaurant out loud here and there.

He really was mulling over the options- mostly Asian food, Pho, sushi, dim sum- but he managed to get stuck on the first thing Hunk had said. 

“Burger King,” he said finally, leaning over on Hunk’s shoulder and reaching over, motioning scrolling up with his finger. “The first one.” 

Hunk scrolled up as instructed, selecting Burger King from the top of the list. Then, he made a face.

“Lance, Burger King is down the block. You want to pay three dollars to have it delivered?” 

It was Lance’s turn to make a face, eyes narrowing as he pushed off Hunk’s shoulder and flopped down onto the other side of the couch. “I don’t see you offering to walk and get it. Besides, it’d get cold.” 

“We could eat  _ at _ the store. A walk might be good for you.” 

Lance ignored him, hearing the pout in the way he hummed in disapproval and starting clicking through the site to order. 

“Just don’t make a habit of this. You need to get groceries eventually.”

“Yeah, yeah.” 

Hunk was an indecisive orderer, and it took several minutes for him to finally finish, setting the laptop down with the live tracker open.

“Should we play something?” Hunk said, standing up to grab a couple controllers from the TV stand. 

“Go ahead,” Lance muttered, moving his legs into the space Hunk had vacated.

“No,  _ we. _ I  _ will _ sit on those, don’t think I won’t.” Hunk made good on his threat without hesitation, sitting himself down directly on Lance’s legs. He ignored it for as long as he could, eventually yelling out in pain.

“Okay!  _ Okay!  _ Uncle!” Lance gripped onto the armrest of the couch for leverage, trying to pull one leg at a time out from under Hunk’s weight.

“Oh hey, our driver picked up our food,” he said cheerfully, standing up just enough for Lance to get his legs free (almost kneeing himself in the face in the process). “The fate of our Whoppers is in… Keith Kogane’s hands.” 

Lance grinned just slightly, picking himself up to sit. “Don’t fuck it up,  _ Keith. _ ” 

Hunk laughed. “Yeah,  _ Keith _ . Get here safely.” 

Lance leaned forward to watch the tracker,  _ Keith’s _ cartoon car turning out of the restaurant to make the arduous two block trek to Lance’s building.

“Keith’s probably making fun of us for ordering something so close,” Hunk said thoughtfully. “We should be able to set up our own route.” He started dragging his finger along the screen, taking a bunch of unnecessary turns and blocks. “Make it a little more worthwhile.” 

“Keith should be thanking us,” Lance said. “Easiest delivery ever. If he gets lost he’s getting 0 stars.” 

“Don’t worry,” Hunk said sarcastically. “He made it here in one piece.”

“Good job, Keith.” 

They watched Keith’s car come to a stop, as he no doubt got out to make the rest of the walk on foot.

It wasn’t even a minute later that Lance’s phone chimed. A text message from someone not in his contacts, huh? He picked up his phone, unlocking it to open the message.

‘ _ hey.’ _ It read. ‘ _ it’s your uber driver. what’s your buzzer #’ _

Lance started typing back.

‘ _ hey keith. its 435 _ ’

Another chime.

‘ _ ok. see you soon’  _

Lance found himself laughing, his head falling backward. “God, he probably thinks we’re so fucking lazy. Maybe we should have said we were sick.”

The phone rang, and Lance hit the key to let  _ Keith _ into the building.

“You’re  _ kind of _ sick,” Hunk offered. “Depressed is a type of sick.”

That kicked his mood in the gut, making his smile prematurely fade off his face.

“I’m not depressed. I just. Feel like shit. And I miss my girlfriend.” 

Hunk sighed, nodding a little. 

“I know, man. You’re going to be okay, though. It all comes in time.” 

When they heard the knock at the door, Lance was surprised to find himself standing, a blanket pulled over his shoulders, and moving to answer it. 

He pulled the door open and there stood Keith, a large paper bag hanging from his outstretched hand.

“Lance, right?” He asked. He sure wasn’t the friendliest looking guy in the world. No smile, dark, stern eyes, too-long hair falling free around his neck.

“That’s me,” Lance answered, moving out his own hand and taking the bag. “Thanks Keith.” 

Keith clearly didn’t like that, his eyes narrowing as he pushed up a sarcastic, forced smile. Obviously wasn’t interested in the fake familiarity. He gave Lance a once over, very much judging his current state.

“Uh huh.” 

He turned away without another word, taking off down the hallway, slipping earbuds back into his ears as he went. Lance made a face watching his back, slamming the door and flipping the lock. He really was going to get a bad review.

He never did end up writing any sort of review for Keith. He and Hunk ate, played some video games. Then Hunk left. And Lance was alone.

An alarm woke him up in the morning. He reached over to his phone to turn it off, momentarily distracted with the picture of Allura on his lock screen, smiling brightly, hair loose and curly around her shoulders like she hardly ever had it. 

He pulled in a sigh, unlocking his phone. His text message with Keith was still open from the night before. He closed it before opening his photos, scrolling back through them until he found some random meme he had saved to set as his phone background. Then he threw it back down on the table, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

He wasn’t sure what time it was when he woke up again. He felt groggy and too hot, and worse than he had earlier. He fumbled around for his phone, his fingers just barely grazing it. He managed to get it into his hand, lighting up the screen. It was almost 1 PM. He groaned loudly, forcing himself to roll out from under the blankets.

He’d slept through his first class. No point going now.

He had about four texts from Hunk, all of which he dismissed without a response. 

Landing on his back he stared up at the ceiling, feeling so badly like he needed to cry, but his eyes had long since gone dry.

Eventually he had to stand up, slowly making his way down the hall to the bathroom. 

It was a long, hard afternoon of scrolling through Netflix but never selecting anything, ignoring Hunk’s texts, and sighing with stinging eyes everytime he thought of Allura, but by six PM it was time to eat again, the hunger pangs going from an annoying growl to a constant wrenching in his gut.

He glanced toward the kitchen, trying to will a meal out of it, but if there was no food when Hunk looked yesterday, there sure as hell wouldn’t be any today. 

And so he opened a new tab on his laptop, and pulled up UberEats again. 

This time he did get Asian food- a “chef’s special” plate of nigiri, a bowl of ramen, and katsudon. At least this place was a little farther away, probably adding up to a 20 minute walk as opposed to a three minute one like yesterday. 

He didn’t bother keeping the tracker open, closing the tab, ignoring the email chime, and swapping from Netflix to YouTube, still aimlessly scrolling, nothing looking worth watching. 

By the time his phone rang, Lance had forgotten all about the food, glancing over lazily to see who the call was even from. His phone read INTERCOM so he answered, letting his driver upstairs. And, with a groan, he forced himself to sit up. His blood pressure plummeted and made him momentarily dizzy, the knocking at his door almost drowned out by the ringing. 

He managed to make it though, unlocking the latch, and jerking the door open.

“Shit,” he said aloud, feeling heat pool in his cheeks. “Keith,” he greeted.

God, he was fucking embarrassed now. Humiliated even. Keith said nothing, and his face was completely unreadable. Lance frowned despite himself, lashing out from the shame before he could stop himself.

“Don’t you work anywhere else? This city isn’t that small. Just give me my food.” 

Keith set the delivery bag on the floor, reaching up to pull out his earbuds. He even pulled off the toque he was wearing, revealing a mess of jet black hat-hair.

“Where’s your friend?” He asked, peeking over Lance’s shoulder into the empty, silent apartment. 

Lance could feel his eyes starting to sting again, and his voice cracked as he tried to answer. 

“He can’t just- he’s got better things to do than sit here and stare at me.”

Fuck,  _ now _ was when his tears decided to start producing again, welling in his eyes. He took in a deep breath, desperately blinking them back. 

There was some kind of sympathy in the way Keith looked at him, the hard line of his mouth smiling just slightly.

“There’s no way you can eat all of this food yourself,” he said, which made Lance breathe out a chuckle.

“No, there isn’t. I just didn’t want anyone to know I was alone.” 

“Then don’t be alone,” Keith suggested, shoving his hat in his jacket pocket, and starting to pull off his gloves. “I don’t have another delivery after this. I’ll keep you company.” 

If he imagined it like a cartoon, Lance could see his depression and lethargy on his left shoulder, begging him to laugh, turn Keith away, say  _ that’s stupid, I don’t even know you _ . Keep wallowing in pity, lay alone until you waste away into nothing. But on his right shoulder stood whatever hope he had left, reassuring him it was okay, ask for help, be thankful for this gift in a stranger, take advantage of it, cry, don’t be alone, let yourself feel better.

He couldn’t find any words. He just felt his eyes welling, his mouth begging to frown, and he nodded.

And that’s how he ended up here. Keith helped him move all the junk off of the coffee table, and it was now a spread of way too much sushi, both of them with their own pair of chopsticks, helping themselves from the two bowls without bothering to separate it. 

Keith didn’t struggle at all to pick something on Netflix, deciding on some random, non-linear reality TV that neither of them really needed to pay any close attention to.

Keith filled his mouth with pork, not bothering to swallow before he spoke.

“I guess it would be stupid to ask if you’re okay,” he started, finally gulping down his mouthful. “You’re still wearing the same clothes from yesterday, and you clearly haven’t showered.” 

Lance felt that shame creeping up on him again, biting a piece of nigiri in half and searching for the willpower to chew it. 

“I’m just… Going through a bit of a blue period,” he muttered, avoiding eye contact, just like he had done with Hunk. “I. My girlfriend dumped me. I guess I’m just a little… Lost. Our lives were so intertwined, I’m still trying to pick up my pieces and remember what the old puzzle looked like.” 

Keith was nodding as he listened, keeping his eyes trained on his food as he picked up some nori from the ramen bowl and slipped it into his mouth. 

“It’s not going to be the old puzzle,” Keith said, making eye contact for what felt like the first time. “She’s still a part of you, influencing who you are now compared to who you were before. I’m not saying you can’t be your own person again, but. You’re not going to be the person you were. Trying to is just going to waste your time. Not to mention disappoint you.” 

Keith moved to start picking up bean sprouts as Lance mulled it over. He got distracted watching him, picking up a pile so huge there was no way he would be able to get it all in his mouth. But somehow, he did, and Lance kept on staring.

He was kind of attractive, in a “I  _ definitely _ don’t care what you think and I walked out this morning like this on purpose” kind of way. Scruffy eyebrows, a neglected haircut. Strong hands though, someone who spent their time doing something real. Little scars littered his fingers. Probably worked with tools.

He started to feel gross. Or maybe, he just started to care that he felt gross. The grease in his hair felt heavy, he could suddenly feel the sweat in the shirt he had been wearing since yesterday morning. He needed to shower. Put on fresh clothes, even if they were just pajamas. 

In the meantime though he pulled off his socks, feeling even just slightly refreshed from a bit of fresh air to his toes. And, he smiled.

“You’re right,” he said. “I don’t want to be someone who never had her, anyway.” 

Keith smiled back, holding up a piece of tuna maki, which Lance tapped with a piece of own, mimicking a cheers. 

“That’s the spirit.” 

Lance threw down a napkin when he was done eating, feeling a burst of energy from the calories like he had the night before. He dragged a hand back through his hair, feeling the grease on his fingers. 

“Are you going to steal my stuff if I grab a shower?” He asked, standing up from where he had seated himself on the floor, piling garbage into the delivery bag and picking up what was left of the food to carry into the kitchen.

“I’m in your UberEats history,” Keith answered, sitting back on his arm while he brought up his phone in his other hand. “You could ruin my livelihood if I crossed you.”

“I just might,” Lance teased, throwing styrofoam into the fridge.

“I could also leave, if you want me to,” Keith called out. Lance found himself hesitating, standing still for a moment.

He didn’t want Keith to leave. He didn’t want to be alone. But he didn’t want to bother someone else to come over. He felt a familiar heat pooling in his cheeks. How did he phrase this without sounding pathetic. Without admitting what was actually on his mind.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said carefully, hearing his heartbeat in his ears as he waited to hear the response. 

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

Lance breathed a sigh of relief, blushing deep as he managed a smile, and got back on track towards the bathroom.

By the time he was back in the living room Keith had resettled on the couch, laying back with his legs crossed, arms folded behind his head. He cocked his eyebrow when Lance came around the corner, giving heavy scrutiny to his Spongebob pajama pants and the ratty, obviously out-of-cycle oversized t-shirt. And… cat slippers.

“Nice kitty slippers,” he said, biting back a smirk. 

Lance was feeling too good to be insulted, hair clean and blow-dried, clothes fresh, skin rubbed raw and moisturized. 

“They’re lions actually, and thanks.” 

“You’re welcome,” Keith replied, seemingly not surprised by the glossover of his insult. “How do you feel?”

Lance answered honestly, taking a seat adjacent to Keith and resting backward with a big breath of relief. 

“Good. Better. It always feels better after you eat and shower and clean up it’s just. Hard to get started.” 

“I get that,” Keith agreed, giving his head a single, quick nod. “I’ve been where you’ve been. Flunked out of school because of it.” 

Lance felt a bit of a churn in his gut, thinking of the classes he missed today, and the slight consideration that had been in the back of his mind about skipping tomorrow, too. He just nodded though, watching Keith sit up, dragging his hands down along his legs, staring hard at nothing.

“Don’t follow in my footsteps. You have friends, and you’re worth helping. So ask for help.” 

Lance forced himself not to laugh- his usual response to someone getting a little too serious for his comfort. He leaned forward, holding a fist toward Keith with a smile.

“Hey, fortune cookies come with Chinese food, not Japanese. I’m going to get back on my feet, I promise. I really appreciate what you did for me today.”

Keith offered a smile in return, making a fist of his own and bumping his knuckles to Lance’s. 

“I should probably try and make some more money tonight,” he said finally, giving Lance an apologetic expression. “Think you’ll be okay?”

There was definitely some pang of disappointment in Lance’s chest but he swallowed it down, giving a quick nod.

“Yeah, I will. I’ll order a midnight snack if I need some more company.” 

Keith rolled his eyes as he stood, picking up his coat and pulling his hat and mitts out of the pocket.

“You have my number. You can just text me and ask. I make more money if you pay me directly anyway.” 

“Loud and clear,” Lance replied, finally letting himself laugh, hoping there wasn’t too much color in his cheeks giving him away.

He walked Keith to the door, handing him the bag of garbage from dinner.

“I’ll give you five stars if you take this.” 

There was a reluctance in Keith’s expression, not wanting to do any extra favors, but clearly swayed by the bribe. So he snatched the bag, starting to put in his headphones without another word.

“Thanks again,” Lance called after him, cuddling up to the door frame to watch him walk down the hallway.

Keith offered nothing but a wave over his shoulder, disappearing around the corner.

As he walked back into the apartment Lance took a look around, taking in a deep breath, and starting to walk through and pick up his discarded clothes, old dishes and what was left of the trash. And once his space was livable, he set up his laptop on the coffee table, navigating his way to the first website to catch up with class.

And as he waited for his slides to download, he picked up his phone.

_ ‘sorry hunk, _ ’ he wrote, adding a sad emoji for good measure. ‘ _ i’m alive. feeling a little better, too’ _

Hunk wrote back almost instantly, probably waiting all day to hear from him.

‘ _ good!!! did you get groceries?? _ ’

_ ‘fuck’ _

Guess he’d be ordering in for breakfast tomorrow.


End file.
